The Princess of Sol
by DarkBlaze14
Summary: Oh, how I loathe these lines I walk...
1. Chapter 1

Oh, how I loathe these lines I walk. From the castle, through the gardens, around the barracks, and soon I will turn back to the castle. I can't tell if it's raining or pouring; my umbrella hides my frown either way. I can hear those stinging words in the back of my skull:

"Upright, Princess."

If only the council could see me now. I would drag my shoulders on a string behind me if I could; I have more will to spite than to live. Brick after brick passes through my line of sight, and suddenly I realize: this is what it has come to. I'm left to slosh my aching feet over the grounds of ancestors past - ancestors far more successful than I, who made far more of an impact on this world than I could ever dream of. They were never meant to be nobles, never dreamt of shining staffs or elaborate headdresses. And yet I - with royal blood in these veins - I dared to long for a similar life. A life I deem superior.

The monotony has driven me mad. Every day I wake to my royal chamber, I don my royal robes, I eat my royal bread, I paint my face with the tears of lost dreams. What more could I ever want? What more could her Highness ask for? Of course, obviously, undoubtedly, the only accolade I could never, ever attain.

I wish to be a knight.

Not a dame. Blaze the Cat, a knight.

My face presses to the cold glass of one of the barrack's windows. Inside, I see my sword dangling by its hilt, forever bound to the rack on the far wall. Truly, there is nothing special about it to distinguish it from any of the others, and there never was. For years, I used that sword as my pen, crafting stories that could only captivate myself. All I ever wanted was the satisfaction of knowing I was capable of wielding it, because no matter how often I proved that to myself, I never had the title to go along with it. I never had any proof of my proficiency. And maybe now - only when it is too late, of course - maybe now, people will understand what I mean when I say that I have nothing to show for all my labor.

It's funny how knighthood never became my dream until I was told I couldn't dream about it. It never became my end-all desire until I was close to achieving it. It never became my obsession until I was certain it would never happen. And, as one would predict - as if fate never had any other plan - here I am with this emptiness in my soul. My frustration over the situation used to drive me to flames; it motivated me to work harder. Now, my fire fizzles out just thinking about what could have been. It sickens me. It saddens me to no end. I take a step back, and run my hand over one of the coarse, faded columns before looking back to the castle with a sigh.

Perhaps the worst aspect of it all is realizing that, even if I were granted knighthood, I never would have seen battle. The council never would have given me the opportunity to make the kind of impact I so crave. If that is the case - which it is, without a doubt - why could they not just pity me? Allow me to have that small victory, and move on with my life? But that was never going to happen. I want to fight alongside my people. I want to ensure the safety of Sol. I do not just want knighthood. But, seeing that I would never be allowed to fight anyway, what is it to them to give me a title? Is that too much to ask? Not once in my bastard life have I ever wanted something more.

I hold tight to my umbrella and tuck my chin into my scarf as a rush of wind passes through the garden. How cold of nature, to kick me while I'm down. The umbrella turns inside out with the stress, as one could only assume, and I release my grip on it so that fate can take its course. The rain pelts my head, wrinkling my face with the determination that once fueled my training. My heart feels heavier than the burden of my duties; I fear they will cross paths soon, and when that happens, my soul will not be strong enough to house them both.

Water is slung from the saturated fur on my boots with each step I take up the castle stairs. I may never know why I do this to myself. Why I travel back to the barracks every morning. Why I travel back to the barracks every evening. Why I choose to dig deeper into this tiresome rut my life has become. Perhaps that is simply the easiest option.

"Upright, Princess."

Those words catch my full attention, boiling my blood as I hear them spoken aloud again. I look not to the source of the disturbance, for they would care not of my struggle anyway. Clinging to my last bit of dignity, I grind my teeth, straighten my back, and stomp inside my prison.

Fate be damned. Nobility be damned. Oh, how I loathe these lines I walk.

* * *

 **so what do you do when you're super upset about something? you write a vent drabble about it, obviously. that is all, lmao**


	2. Chapter 2

Invisible mountains.

That's all they are - these obstacles in my mind that suffocate me. Invisible mountains that I've made for myself, just to climb over. But it is no longer a success story when you're asphyxiated, when you lose your breath on the way up. The air is so thin up here I feel like I could swallow it. Perhaps I already did on accident, and fate has just decided that I've had my fair portion.

And to think, it's all my own undoing. I am the architect of my own failure. The mountains aren't even real - I've only just realized that. No one has ever told me what I should be, they've only told me what I couldn't. Blinded by spite, I tried to bend the rules anyway. I started climbing. I haven't looked back since.

It's easy to say 'just stop climbing'. It's easy to look out a window, as I am doing now. Oh, it seems as though it's still raining. Would be a shame to be caught outside in it. To those who are, I wish I could tell them, 'just stop the rain'. Perhaps then they would understand how my mind operates.

The worst part of the illusion is that, once you reach the top of a mountain, you aren't at a peak. You're at the base of another one. There isn't any time to think; you must keep climbing once you've started. And while the sky doesn't get any closer, the ground gets further away with each passing moment. It's quite unfair, the game of climbing.

Yes, knighthood is my current mountain. It's one that I may never stop climbing. How ridiculous. I have anything one could want - nobility, prestige, imminent power - and yet I crave the touch of a sword on my shoulders. I crave the looks on my peers' faces when I walk away victorious. Victorious as _Sir_ Blaze, not Princess.

And what for? I would go back to my everyday life. I would still inherit the crown one day. I would still not have enough time to complete my duties. I would still touch myself at night, and dream of freedom. I would still resent the poverty and pain that my class has caused. I would still daydream of escape. I would still practice pyrokinesis. I would still be Princess.

But I want something deeper. I want to walk outside, and have little girls look up to me. I want them to see their self in me - a goal they can look to achieve, not an unattainable status. I want them to know that they are capable of anything they put their mind to. I want them to think, 'wow, if Sir Blaze became a knight, why can't I?'. I don't want this housekeeper role to pain women for the remainder of time. I know there are little girls out there who wish to lead a different life. I know how much those little girls fear the future. I know, because I was one.

One might ask, why worry about this now? Why not wait until I'm Queen, when I can actually do something about it? It's because, even then, it's not up to me. It's up to the royal council, the King, and anyone who they believe might have a more level opinion than I. That's the fate that awaits the Princess of Sol; imagine how the peasants must feel. I can't pass a law and change the world, but with my sword, I feel as though I can do anything.

My mother has already found me a suitor, the puppet she is. A prince from a far-off land. I forget his name, he is that unimportant to me at the moment. I'm far more intrigued by a woman I see at the merchant docks every now and then. She sails in a few times per week, and sells healing herbs and minerals. She is always clad from head to toe in thin silk; piercings and jewelry adorn her body from head to toe. She always sits quietly behind her stand, reading a book as the sunlight reflects off her beautiful orange skin. I often think about the tiara she wears, whether it is a status symbol or if it's simply there to hold her dreads off her face. She captivates me. I don't think she has ever noticed my staring at her - I wonder if she would recognize me as the Princess. One day, I will be brave enough to learn her name.

Oh, but I digress. Perhaps I should leave embarrassing personal matters out of this.

I must instead focus on my dreadful duties - the real mountains. Mountains that pale in comparison to the mental ones I have created. Yet, there are so many of them at one time that they are just as difficult to overcome. Prepare the outline of a speech, help the council organize a ball, prepare the transcript for that speech, attend court, spend the day with my future husband, give the speech, study the history of the kingdom, study law, study science, eat.

Eat?

"Princess, you must eat."

When is there time to eat? How can I eat when I need all my limbs to climb? They flinch not. Their concern does not extend far enough to reach me. I carry on.

All the while, I only wish to wield my sword. The sword of a different discipline; a discipline that I have been told time and time again that I am not welcome in. All the time I've spent perfecting my noble demeanor, all to waste now that my mind is encaged by the blade. All the time I've spent perfecting my swordsmanship, all to waste now that my body is encaged by this palace. I'm caught somewhere in the middle, between two balloons that require all of my breath to inflate. Did I mention how thin the air is getting?

One day, I tell myself. One day, all of this will be settled. I'll get my wish, the people will get theirs. The council - to hell with the council. If only I could take from them what they've taken from me. Perhaps then I could sleep at night, at least with the knowledge that my downfall has not gone unavenged. But still, I would want more, and I will always want more, for the very reason we live is to gain more. It is simply unfortunate I've had to resort to invisible mountains to satisfy that thrill, especially when there are so many tangible ones before me.

Is this the end of my musing, or merely the beginning? I suppose it depends on how quickly I can find a key to one of these cages.

Oh, what am I saying? I cannot hold a key and climb.


End file.
